Rue'an watched my every movement with quiet attentiveness. When I finally accepted the tunic, his ears twitched upward in visible relief. He didn't smile with his mouth—his expressions were subtle, more instinctive. A tiny lift of his ears. A slight sway of his tail. The tilt of his head. Everything about this man, it screamed beast. Wild.
When I finally draped the tunic over myself, he let out a soft sound that could only be described as pleased—a small chuff, warm and low.
He stood again, now towering with his height and bare chest, but despite his imposing size, he moved slow and soft, as though trying not to scare a deer.
Then, with a nod, Rue'an turned his back—giving me a little space.
He strode toward the door, his tail swishing in slow, even arcs. Before stepping out, he glanced back over his shoulder and gave a small beckoning gesture, followed by a single word:
"Shala." (Follow )
The way he said it—it sounded like come or follow.
He waited patiently, standing in the soft light of the hallway just outside the room. The corridor behind him revealed more stone and wood architecture, woven tapestries with images of animals, and sunlight slanting through arched windows.
From somewhere deeper in the home, the smell of warm bread and roasted herbs drifted in, along with the echo of voices speaking that same strange language.
Rue'an took a few steps out, then turned again to check, his tail wagging once, like he was trying to encourage her.
He spoke once more, this time more softly. "...Shala. Shala va… Rue'an.." ( ...Follow. Follow me...Rue'an.. )
It was clear. He wasn't going to force me out, or drag me.
But he wasn't about to leave here without me either.
"Mmm.." I made a small noise, a nod. Then slowly started to follow. I cautiously stepped behind him. I didn't move fast by any means. I was slow. Deliberately so.
His ears perked at the sound—the soft "mmm"—and his tail gave an approving flick. He didn't speak again, but his pace slowed slightly to accommodate me. It's like he was trying to make me feel safe.
The hallway lead down a straight path that led into other rooms. Arched windows. The floors were made of smooth stone polished by time, and the walls were painted in warm earth tones. Animal designs danced across the tapestries, and windchimes crafted from feathers and bones chimed lazily in the morning breeze.
Rue'an walked in front of me. Glancing back every once in awhile to make sure I hadn't fallen behind. We reached an open veranda with a view of a forest canopy so tall and vast it looked like a sea of green clouds. Waterfalls sparkled in the distance, and glowing insects bobbed lazily in the air like fairy lights.
A low wooden table sat in the center of the veranda, already set with food:
Warm flatbreads, roasted meat, some sliced fruit that shimmered faintly.
Rue'an gestured to sit.
Then he dropped into a cross-legged seat next to me, his long silver hair falling in loose waves around his face. He reached for a piece of fruit, bit into it, and smiled—then carefully picked a second one, offering it with an encouraging nod.
He scooted the plate close. Tapping the edge of it, then spoke again. "Shaila."( Eat. )
His tone was soft. Encouraging. I could tell he was trying to tell me to eat, just by his actions. He didn't seem like he wanted to harm me. Just simply, take care of me.